


Hot Dogs & Pyjak Fingers

by Junker



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junker/pseuds/Junker
Summary: Zaeed and Shepard take a remote cabin vacation together. Zaeed prepares a special dinner for Shepard to show how much he cares because cooking has to be easier than just saying his feelings, right?





	Hot Dogs & Pyjak Fingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellebeedarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebeedarling/gifts).



> Treat for ellebeedarling! I wanted to make you a little something since you comment on a lot of my fics and I super appreciate it!! Thank you!!
> 
> I'm blatantly stealing pyjak fingers from [ThreeWhiskeyLunch's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch) [Holocene](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843236) (with permission) because if they existed they would probably be all I’d eat.

Zaeed watched from the doorway as Shepard turned around inside the interior of the cabin to look around. Shepard had two duffle bags slung over his shoulders, carrying them with ease as he looked at the vaulting ceilings with exposed beams. 

“This place is gorgeous,” Shepard said. “I can see why Hackett keeps it a secret.”

Zaeed closed the door behind him. He carried a few bags of groceries with him, and he set down a case of beer. “Hackett thought you deserved a vacation.”

Shepard grinned at Zaeed before turning around to say, “Look – the second floor has a balcony. I could stand up there and try to throw food into your mouth.” Zaeed laughed, and after a beat of thought Shepard said, “I suppose that’s why Hackett keeps this place a secret. Someone could make a real mess of the place.”

Zaeed shrugged. “We’ll clean up.” 

Shepard grinned in response and looked around. The entranceway combined with a good-sized living area that looked all the larger with its high ceilings. A modest fireplace sat on the wall opposite of the second floor walkway and above it a TV hung on the wall. There was one long sofa and a worn-in chair on one side of it, tilted to face the TV. Zaeed could picture Hackett reclining the chair with some old movie on the television. Two blankets were hung over the backs of the sofa and the chair. The chair’s blanket was crochet and the sofa’s was a green plaid. Zaeed looked forward to cuddling up under the plaid one.

Zaeed said, “I’m just going to get started on dinner.”

Shepard huffed. “And you don’t want me around when you do that.”

“The only time I don’t want you around,” Zaeed said as he headed towards the kitchen.

He stopped to peck Shepard on the lips, and Shepard gave Zaeed’s ass a friendly slap as he walked by. Shepard said, “I can’t decide if I want to explore now, or if I’d rather wait until we’re together.”

“It’s not as big as it looks,” Zaeed said. “Second level just has two bedrooms and a bathroom, and this is pretty much the first floor.”

The kitchen was a cozy little nook. It was mostly a countertop “U” shape broken up with appliances. Two chairs and a small table in the corner shared the wall with the doorway. Hackett had graciously given Shepard and Zaeed permission to eat in the living area. Zaeed started to unpack the groceries and put a few drinks into the fridge. It already seemed pretty well-stocked, and Hackett told him they could help themselves to anything. Still, Zaeed bought food specifically to make Shepard a special dinner, and he was going to do just that.

Shepard shouted, “I think I’ll start the fireplace and just read. Shout if you need anything.”

“You shout to me if you set yourself in fire.”

Shepard scoffed. “I’ll be fine. I just, uh, have to look up how to do it.”

Zaeed laughed. With the food put away, he got out his datapad and pulled up the recipe he found for pan-seared chicken breast. Shepard had off-handily mentioned he hadn’t had any Earth-based food in a while, so Zaeed decided it’d be a thoughtful treat. 

He found a frying pan in a cupboard and poured olive oil into it. He let the pan heat up as he dug out the chicken and other ingredients he stocked to make a Caesar salad. As he listened to Shepard start the fire, he read over the recipe to make sure he knew what he was doing. Cooking wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Well, cooking up assholes was his strong suit. He laughed to himself at the thought, and he heard Shepard laugh in the other room.

Zaeed asked, “What’s funny?”

“I just love that you’re laughing to yourself,” Shepard said.

Zaeed laughed again. “You’re something else, Shepard.”

“I know,” Shepard said.

Zaeed slipped the chicken breasts into the pan and turned back to prepare the salad. He started second-guessing his salad choice. He had forgotten to buy bacon bits. Would it be better to cut up the chicken and put it into the salad? Then it seemed like a light dinner rather than something heavy. He turned and looked at the chicken in the pan. Would one breast each be enough? Sure, he and Shepard ate together a lot, and both of them could eat. What the hell had he been thinking only buying two breasts?

He sighed to himself and went back to the salad. He mixed in the croutons and felt a little sorry for how plain it looked. Christ, it really needed bacon. Shepard liked the dressing coated throughout the salad, which meant mixing it in thoroughly beforehand. He thought he gave it time to set, the croutons would get soggy, and that was the only way Shepard would even eat croutons. Zaeed grabbed the dressing and started to pour it out when he smelt something burning. He quickly turned back to the stove to rescue the chicken.

Except the chicken was stuck to the pan.

He tried to pry the breast off with a spatula as he looked over the datapad. The recipe said that if the chicken was stuck to the pan, it wasn’t done, but it definitely smelt like both pieces were burning. He pulled the frying pan off of the heat and tried prying the chicken off. Both breasts had burnt onto the pan, destroying not only the chicken, but also Hackett’s poor frying pan. Had he not used enough olive oil? Or was Hackett’s stovetop more powerful than the recipe described? His voice was low as he muttered, “God damn it.”

Frowning, he turned back to the salad. Now he had a salad with no protein. Could he make it worth anything? His eyes widened as he realized he left the bottle of dressing upturned into it. He said a quick, “Shit!” and pulled it out. More dressing poured out into the salad as he capped it off. There wasn’t much dressing left in the bottle.

“Everything all right?” Shepard asked. “I hear a lot of quiet cursing.”

“Everything’s fine,” Zaeed shouted. “You know me, I just cuss a lot.”

“And that burning smell is just the fireplace, right?”

“Damn straight,” Zaeed said.

Zaeed rubbed his face. This was fine. Shepard liked salad dressing. And maybe it was more dressing than salad now. No big deal. Shepard might like it.

It definitely wasn’t a meal though.

Zaeed quietly muttered, “For fuck’s sake.”

Zaeed checked Hackett’s fridge and then the freezer. He found a pack of hot dogs. Okay. Shepard liked hot dogs with mayo. Were there buns? He dug deeper and found a package of hot dog buns that didn’t look freezer-burnt. He pulled both out and found a big box at the back of the freezer. It read, “Pyjak fingers.”

“Oh hell yes,” Zaeed said.

Zaeed rearranged the freezer as he pulled out the box of pyjak fingers. He read the instructions. Just a quick oven-bake. Zaeed pulled out a baking sheet and covered it in tinfoil. He was not going to fuck up another pan. He filled the pan with pyjak fingers and put the box back into the freezer. He left the pan on the stovetop as he preheated the oven. Zaeed watched the mess of thin battered strips of some alien vegetable resting smugly on the tinfoil. He was going to eat the hell out of them soon enough.

The rest went smoothly. Zaeed defrosted the buns and baked them alongside the fingers for the last few minutes of the fingers’ bake time. He microwaved the hot dogs. Maybe it wasn’t the tastiest route, but he thought it was the safest. It was hard to fuck up microwaving hot dogs – though he certainly had before. The pyjak fingers came out as well as anything that was baked instead of deep-fried turned out. The thin ones were too crispy and the thick ones were still soft. Still, they’d be as tasty as hell and Zaeed would eat far too many. He ate one to test the flavour and then another to confirm his suspicions that they were delicious. He laid out six hot dogs in buns on a plate and loaded a second plate with the pyjak fingers.

He carried in two plates, napkins, forks and a squeeze-bottle of mayo out into the living room.

Shepard looked up. He was splayed out on the sofa, facing the kitchen, as he read. He sat up and said, “You’re finally ready?”

“Don’t say finally,” Zaeed said. “I took a normal amount of time in the kitchen.”

“Sure,” Shepard said, laughing.

Zaeed smirked and placed the plates down on the coffee table. He put the mayo in front of Shepard. “Do you need any help?” Shepard asked.

“No, I can carry it all out,” Zaeed said, not certain he could, but now determined to do it all in one go.

He really didn’t want Shepard to see the state of the kitchen. He put the plate of pyjak fingers on top of the salad bowl and got a firm grip on it before carrying the hot dogs in his other hand. He told himself this was a terrible idea, but he’s had terrible ideas work well before. Hell, his chicken plan was a great idea – and he even followed the rules – and it burned up. Carrying too much shit would be fine.

He carried out everything with ease and laid out the three dishes in front of Shepard. He deserved a god damn medal. “Here we go,” Zaeed said. “Hot dogs with mayo and pyjak fingers with Caesar dressing for dip.”

While Zaeed was in the kitchen, Shepard had grabbed two beers from the case they brought. He opened them as he looked over the meal. “What happened to the salad?” Shepard asked.

“Caesar dressing doesn’t taste the same without lettuce and croutons,” Zaeed said, puffing up a bit.

Shepard said, “This is, like, the perfect Caesar salad.”

“You mean, pyjak finger dipping sauce,” Zaeed said.

Shepard laughed, and Zaeed sat down on the chair next to the sofa. While Shepard loaded up his plate, he asked, “So, what did you plan to make?”

“This is exactly what I planned to make,” Zaeed said, loading his own plate. “It’s definitely not all stuff I found in Hackett’s fridge.”

Zaeed looked up from his plate to see Shepard watching him with a smile. Zaeed asked, “What?”

“You’re just the best,” Shepard said with a shrug.

Zaeed laughed. “You’re being an idiot.”

“Come on,” Shepard said. Shepard moved over slightly to give room for Zaeed. “Sit with me. I have something for you too.”

Zaeed moved over, fully prepared for a kiss, but Shepard got up. Shepard moved to Hackett’s TV and said, “Did you know Hackett has all this old technology here so he can watch his favourite old movies and stuff?”

Zaeed shifted in his seat and set his plate back on the table. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to talk him into just going digital.”

“Well, I bought one of your favourite old movies so we could watch it together,” Shepard said. “It wasn’t easy to track it down, but-“

“You asked Kelly,” Zaeed said with a laugh.

“Well, yeah,” Shepard said, laughing too. “Regardless, it was a lot of work.”

Shepard grabbed the controller and moved back to the couch. Zaeed turned his head to face Shepard, and Shepard lightly touched his cheek. Zaeed watched Shepard’s eyes as Shepard said, “You know I love you, right?”

Zaeed smiled softly. “Yeah.”

“I just – I really appreciate all you do, and I know asking Kelly to buy a DVD online isn’t much of anything compared to asking Hackett to borrow his cabin and making a meal like this-“

Zaeed cupped Shepard’s cheek, and Shepard stopped short. Zaeed tried to keep his gruff voice gentle as he said, “I know you love me. You don’t need to make any grand gestures. But I’m not good at this shit, so I’d rather do stuff than, you know, just say it.”

Shepard smirked. He teasingly said, “You love me.”

Zaeed felt heat go to his cheeks and spread to his ears. “Well, yeah.”

Shepard said, “Well I feel loved,” and kissed Zaeed.

Shepard gripped the back of Zaeed’s head to pull him close as he kissed him deeper. He spread Zaeed’s lips with his own, and Zaeed lightly pulled the front of Shepard’s shirt. Shepard pressed his forehead against Zaeed’s when their lips parted. Zaeed traced his hand down Shepard’s chest and said, “That’s how I want you to feel.”

Shepard smiled. He tilted Zaeed’s head to kiss his cheek and said, “I’m also feeling hungry.”

Zaeed chuckled, and Shepard started the movie. Zaeed glanced at Shepard while the sound of crickets grew with credits fading onto the screen. He knew he loved Shepard, and it was easy to love him. He just wished he could find the words for it. He supposed it was enough for Shepard to feel it, even in a meal that went to hell so quickly. 

He wasn’t eager to compare Shepard and his relationship to the makeshift meal, he didn’t mean to suppose that Shepard was the only person left for him and he settled, but he knew there wasn’t a recipe in the universe that would have put Zaeed and Shepard together. Still, somehow they fell together naturally and just clicked. He couldn’t imagine a life without Shepard now. He wondered how many relationships Shepard had like his failed chicken – the type of person that was perfect for him on paper, but in practice fell apart. Zaeed knew he’d been through a hell of a lot himself.

Grabbing his plate, Zaeed leaned back into the sofa. He made sure his arm was against Shepard’s as the rustle of the train started.

“Oh shit,” Zaeed said as the title displayed on the screen. “Shepard, you’re going to love this movie.”

Shepard offered him a closed grin with his mouth clearly full of at least half of a hot dog.

Zaeed nudged Shepard and said, “Thanks.”

Shepard chewed and nodded. Zaeed laughed and kissed the side of Shepard’s head. Shepard tried not to laugh and covered his mouth. Zaeed settled back into the sofa, and Shepard pressed against him. Shepard slouched down on the couch to rest his head on Zaeed’s shoulder. Zaeed lightly rested his head against Shepard’s and smiled to himself. 

He supposed he could hold off on eating pyjak fingers for a few more minutes if it meant staying like this with Shepard. It wouldn’t be easy, but Shepard was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> (Since the authors are revealed, I'm slapping up my links!)
> 
> • [Twitter](https://twitter.com/JunkerFics) • [Tumblr](https://junkerfics.tumblr.com/) • [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/Junker) • 


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